Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tournaments - the Story of my 7th Year
by hillaxthrilla
Summary: Hillary is a witch of above average intelligence, looks, and humor who finds herself feeling indifferent about her final year at Hogwarts until she meets a few interesting exchange students who help her change her perspective, and ultimately introduce her to a world that she was previously unaware. Rated M for mature sitations, suggestions, and language. OC/OC, HG/VK
1. Chapter 1: 7th Year

Sliding my trunk under my four-poster bed, I allow myself to finally feel the weight of my final year at Hogwarts sink in. For months now, I have been in denial; caught between feelings of 'I should already be done' and 'where did the last six years go?' This will be my first year without my best friend, Oliver Wood. I spent the summer travelling to various training camps with him and supporting him as he attempted to try out for any team that would see him. As luck would have it (for Oliver, anyway), the Puddlemere keeper suffered a rather horrific accident while visiting Egypt and is now unable to play, and so they accepted Oliver as a last-minute blessing. Anyway, while he's out having the time of his life, it's back to Hogwarts for me.

"Hill, owl for you," Angelina nods at the window, and I see Oliver's handsome tawny owl waiting patiently for me to open the window.

"Come on in, Biscuit," I smile as I slide open the latch and push the window open. The bird is as much mine as it is Oliver's, as I helped him pick it out in Diagon Alley seven years ago. To think, my seventeenth birthday is in just a few weeks…crazy how time flies. Pulling the parchment off of Biscuit's leg, I flop down on my bed and pull a treat out of my trunk before opening the letter.

_Hill –_

_Sorry I didn't get you anything nicer for your last first day. Or is it your first last day?  
>Things have been very busy, but I still find time to miss you. Love you kiddo, try and<br>stay out of trouble._

_Oliver_

_P.S. – I hung the picture of us in my locker, but promptly took it down due to lewd  
>comments from the teammates. It now lives on the wall in my very tiny kitchen<br>of my very tiny apartment. I see it less but can enjoy it more. Love again._

I can't help but smile and blink back a few tears as I think of a year without Oliver. We've known each other since we were toddlers, and every year I've been at Hogwarts he's been here to be my support and friend. Through boyfriends, break-ups, OWLs, Quidditch seasons good and bad, and most importantly, the blissful summers in between, when we could truly enjoy uninterrupted friendship. Although I am friendly with everyone, I have always preferred to keep the company of a close few, and Oliver has always been a part of that small cohort. I consider myself an introvert that plays an extrovert in public: to most people, I am personable, outgoing, and social. Few people, however, know the real me.

"Let's go, Hill, we've got to get down to the Great Hall for dinner or we'll be late." Angelina is a Prefect this year, so I should plan to arrive early and leave late for every meal, event, or occasion. I solemnly nod at her and pat Biscuit goodbye.

"I'll send something back later with Nash. Give Oliver a nip for me." Biscuit shoots me a look of understanding and takes off out of the window. Quickly pulling on my school uniform and robes, I hurry out of the room to find Angelina tapping her foot in despair. "Alright already, here I am."

"No tie? Not even for the Sorting Ceremony?" Her voice is incredulous, dripping of distaste. You'd think I had just loudly announced to the common room that I wasn't wearing underwear (I am, for the record).

"I haven't worn a tie since my third year, calm down. Let's go before I change my mind about letting you get there early." I swear I hear a squeal of terror, but let it pass as we head out the passageway into the main corridor. The Fat Lady makes a disparaging remark about my lack of tie as well, resulting in a rather rude hand gesture on my part, and we're off to the Great Hall.

The Sorting Ceremony always reminds me of my first year (as I imagine is the reaction for nearly everyone who's ever gone through the Sorting Ceremony), and how excited I was to begin school. My class at Hogwarts is one that has always been rather sure of itself: there were no squirmy, self-doubters in our ranks. We all had a relatively solid idea of where we'd be ending up when the hat was placed on our heads. I did worry briefly about being put in Slytherin, but eradicated the thoughts from my mind before my name was called for sorting. When they announced I'd be in Gryffindor, Oliver stood up at the table and gestured to a spot right next to him on the bench. I'd made it.

The only first year I'd ever made room for on the bench next to me was Hermione Granger, who looked so sure of herself up on stage, but reeked of insecurity and a false sense of assuredness. I'd made the move to open up the space next to me, and there was an unspoken sigh of relief among the other third years – we could all tell she'd be a handful. I haven't looked back since, I still consider Hermione my responsibility to look over, although she works hard to stay in trouble and self-doubt with her lackeys Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. As we walk into the Great Hall and Angelina begins to help file students to their respective tables, I wonder idly about who in this years' class will need a bit more love, and about who will clear a space on the bench for them. It's a sort of unspoken responsibility at Hogwarts – I've heard from boyfriends past that all houses do it. Before I can think further on the subject however, my attention is diverted to two empty tables – one at the end of the Slytherin house table, and the other at Ravenclaw's, nearest to the raised area where the professors eat.

"Fred," I muse as I sit next to the red-haired twin, "what do you reckon those empty tables are for?" He frames his chin with his thumb and index finger and 'hmms' loudly.

"Keen eye, Clayton. Really, well spotted. Unfortunately, I haven't the slightest idea what they might be for. George, any ideas?" George appears suddenly opposite of Fred, mimicking his thumb-and-index routine.

"No idea, Fred. Extra-large recruiting class this year? Prefects Preferred Seating?" Angelina somehow hears and glares at the three of us. The empty table next to ours, the one attached to Slytherin's house table, seems ominous. Although it is set identically, something about it seems exceptional, and dangerous. All around, students are settling in and greeting one another, seemingly relieved to be back at Hogwarts after a summer away. I remember feeling like they do now, but not this year. Within seconds (as if by magic!) everyone settles into their seats and McGonagall enters with her flock of first years. Each year they get smaller and more frail-looking, it seems, and the Sorting is uneventful. Hermione is already in a sour mood, due to Ron or Harry (or both) having a sour mood, so I keep my distance from her. I'm not ready for that drama today, on top of the mystery tables and the lack of Oliver.

"Attention students: now that we are all sorted and settled, I want to take a moment to introduce some very special guests to you all. First, please help me in welcoming Madame Maxime and the beautiful ladies of Bauxbaton's Academy." Dumbledore speaks, as usual, as if nothing important were happening and as if he were announcing a fire simultaneously. Suddenly, the doors of the Great Hall open and in come prancing (literally) twenty girls in shimmering silk robes, all periwinkle in color, and queer little berets atop their perfectly coiffed heads. As they shimmy and sashay down the aisle, enchanted butterflies escape from their auras and they pause every now and again to collectively sigh. I catch myself looking stupid with my mouth open, but then quickly realize every person in the Great Hall looks precisely the same. When they reach the staff tables, they all do a bow and fill in the empty seats at the end of the Ravenclaw table.

"And now, our brothers from the North, the proud Sons of Durmstrang, and their Headmaster, Igor Karkaroff." The doors bang open once more and in march some pseudo-military, Russian cadets, yielding fire sticks. There are grunts, sparks, two acrobats, and a dead forest's worth of fur. Suddenly, they are sprinting toward the staff tables in full mock-charge. Some break-dancing, some fire breathing, and I find myself mouth agape once more. I am so wrapped up in how bizarre everything is that I barely notice Viktor Krum as he brushes past me to take his seat at the end of the Slytherin table.

"That's Krum, isn't it?" I breathe to Fred and George, who are entranced with the Bauxbaton ladies two tables away.

"Krum what?" George mouths half-heartedly, turning toward me reluctantly. "Bloody hell, that's Viktor Krum." Suddenly, everyone begins to turn toward him as he sits quietly, eyes fixed intently on his dinner plate. Vaguely, I am aware that Dumbledore is speaking more about the Triwizard Tournament, but I am fixated on Krum. For a second, I feel a twinge of guilt, as my comment has now brought nearly every set of eyes in the hall on the rather quiet and slouched looking character sitting directly across from me.

"He sort of seems like he has a cold," I whisper, only to be shh'd by Angelina three seats away. George nods, and suddenly there is a collective outcry of rage and disappointment – apparently you must be seventeen to enter the tournament. Clearly no one here is familiar with the Triwizard Tournament; I read some time ago that it's been debated since its inception due to the fact that someone dies pretty much every time they hold one. While the tasks seem exciting, a crystal cup hardly seems worth dying for.

"And now, let us begin our feast!" Dumbledore finally booms from the front of the hall, and the bowls and tureens in the middle of the table finally fill with food. Krum looks mildly surprised by the appearing food, and a few of his classmates actually curse in surprise. Not very tough. From behind me, I can hear a dramatic gasp arise from the Bauxbaton table; apparently their food doesn't appear from thin air either.

"Say Fred," I muse aloud as I begin to load up my plate, suddenly very hungry, "if we were to travel to another school for the Triwizard Tournament, what do you suppose our little entrance gimmick would be?" Fred snorts into his pumpkin juice and shakes his head, and I smile, pleased with myself for sparking what would dominate the dinner conversation. After the feast is over, we head back to the common room, still arguing over whether we would enter on broomsticks or thestrals. Angelina is waiting for me in the dormitory, still dressed and looking cross.

"Well what's taken you so long?" She taps her foot in annoyance, "I've been waiting for nearly five minutes! I've told Professor McGonagall that you will help us with the Ambassador to Foreign Schools Program." I raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"The what now? Why didn't you just tell me in the Great Hall? What duties does this position entail? I'd really prefer, in the future, that you not volunteer me for committees and such, at least without telling me first."

"Oh stop complaining, you'll be thanking me soon enough. But right now we need to get back down to the Great Hall. Will you please put on your tie?" Her voice nearly cracks as we hurry back out of the dormitory, through the common room, and into the hallway.

"Not a chance, Johnson." To upset her even further, I unbutton another button on my blouse, showing a rather evocative 1/10th of an inch of cleavage, and pull down my sweater a bit. To Angelina, I look positively trashy, but to the average person, I merely look like a comfortable schoolgirl.

"Well, at least that will make you a rather popular Ambassador." She's nearly sprinting down the stairs, so I'm jogging to keep up. "Don't be sarcastic. I went out on a limb for you – I figured you could use something to do now that Oliver's gone."

"Yes, I now have endless hours of time that would have otherwise been spent gazing into his eyes, squeezing his biceps, and gossiping about my ex-boyfriends." Angelina can't help but giggle, and I laugh at the thought of Oliver and me actually doing this. It's nice to hear Angelina laugh – it reminds me of the real her, before she felt weighed down by responsibilities.

"I always wondered what you two did when you would disappear for hours after Quidditch practice," she laughs, feigning surprise, "I always thought you were lying about not being together, but this truth is even more satisfying." She slows her pace as we near the Great Hall, attempting to collect her cool. "So you'll be assigned someone from one of the visiting schools, and you'll show them around and take them to classes with you, and teach them about Hogwarts. I really just picked you because you're a cool kid, so you can actually show them an enjoyable time. Just don't blow it."

"_A cool kid?" _My voice is dripping with malice, though just above a whisper, "Maybe last year, when I had Muscles to hang around with, but not now. I've dated everyone date-worthy and all my friends are Prefects. Whoever my partner is, they're doomed." Angelina laughs, this time more politely, as we enter the Great Hall. McGonagall is waiting for us, and gestures for us to hurry over, so I'm jogging again.

"Johnson, Clayton, you're here, good." She sounds flustered. Also among the ranks are all of the other Prefects, including ex-boyfriend Cedric Diggory, and Head Boy and Girl. There seem to only be about five civilians such as myself, and no one else from Gryffindor. Cedric makes lingering eye contact with me, causing my skin to crawl and making me truly miss Oliver. He's a nice guy, and a great kisser, but just too clingy. We dated last year for a few months and before I knew it he was talking about our future together. Not vaguely, either. I mean this guy had it all planned out. I didn't want kids? That's alright, we could adopt. Don't want to live in his hometown? Fine, we'd move to London. I had to get out of that before it was too late, which resulted in a rather dejected WonderBoy for about three months. I remain one of the most hated girls in the school (by other girls) for my brutal mistreatment of Ced the Immaculate. "As you all know, it will be your responsibility to show your partner around the school. You will attend classes together, but mealtimes are optional time that can be spent together or apart. It is strongly encouraged that you spend time outside of your regular school day with your partners, though having them in your common rooms remains strictly forbidden. The Prefect's Lounge on the fifth floor will serve as a suitable place to meet, should you see fit. For the non-Prefects here, just ask for the location and the password from one of your house Prefects."

Behind McGonagall, the doors to the Great Hall reopen, and in come the flocks of Bauxbaton Butterflies and Durmstrang Dolts (for lack of a better alliteration).

"Alright, Gryffindors and Slytherins, you will serve as Ambassadors to the students of Durmstrang, so wait over here for your assignments." McGonagall gestures to her right, and we all shuffle over to appease her. "Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, you'll be with Bauxbatons, so come this way." Cedric shoots me one more wistful look as a heads over to the Bauxbaton side, and I actually shiver.

"I see he's still pining over you," Angelina barely whispers through a sly smile, "what on earth did you do to that boy?" I shrug and look away from him, hoping inwardly that he falls in love with some willing Bauxbatons girl. Bauxbatons get sorted with their Ambassadors first, and it seems that our duty tonight is to simply introduce ourselves over tea that has appeared at the dining tables. Some people get one foreigner to buddy up with, others get two. After the partners have been announced, the groups move to various tea sets throughout the Great Hall. The Durmstrang lot are waiting at attention opposite of us, and if any of them feel even the slightest bit exhausted by this process, it doesn't show. They each look carved from stone, their dark features and strong jawlines ceding no signs of fatigue or annoyance. Finally, McGonagall finishes with the Bauxbaton girls, and the sickly sweet smell of honeysuckle and butterflies subsides. Cedric has been paired up with two girls, both of whom look positively delighted over their Ambassador assignment as they settle in for tea. I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Sons of Durmstrang, you shall be partnered with the proud residents of Houses Slytherin and Gryffindor. Your partnerships have been determined based off of the courses you are taking this year, your year in school, and to some extent, your personalities." I roll my eyes at this; it's clear that McGonagall has no idea what any of these boys' personalities are, as they have just arrived and all act like tin soldiers. She begins naming off partners, and I can tell that every person is hoping they will get partnered with Krum, who is looking positively puffy around the eyes and nose at this point, but still stoic. Angelina gets partnered with one rather tall, hook-nosed cadet with a thick brow and severe looking eyes. Outwardly, she seems thrilled, but I can feel her wilting soul from beside her as she introduces herself and heads toward a tea set.

"Hillary Clayton," McGonagall announces, eyeing me furtively to warn me against another eye roll, "You will serve as Ambassador to Misters Etienne Jarvi and Viktor Krum." Naturally. I step forward, smiling politely, and await for my partners to step forward. Krum looks almost pleased, and from the back row emerges a tall, exceedingly handsome cadet with steel blue eyes and impeccable hair. _Danger, Will Robinson!_ Behind his perfect face, I can almost taste trouble. Nonetheless, we all shake hands, smile, and I head toward the tea setting closest to the grand fireplace for Krum's sake. The boys are silent and obedient as we settle in, positioning themselves opposite from me and politely waiting for me to sit before they sit themselves. Jarvi immediately removes his fur hat and coat, but Krum looks relieved to be near to the fire.

"Well gentlemen," I smile as I shrug off my robes and roll up my sleeves, "welcome to Hogwarts. Care for a cuppa?" Etienne's eyes glint in amusement, and his mouth turns into a cool smile, revealing a dimple that causes my heart to skip a beat. Viktor solemnly nods, looking relieved. "Feeling a bit under the weather, are we, Krum?"

"I haff been sick for days now," he says in a nasally, miserable voice, "I cannot remember ever being sick such as this."

"Old Viktor here's had a rough go of it the past few days," Jarvi's voice is like satin, and matches his handsome features, "being sick while on a two day passage at sea is no cuppa." His accent isn't Slavic, like Viktor's, but closer to French.

"That does sound miserable. We can stop by the hospital wing if you'd like, Madame Pomfrey has a mean cure for the common cold." Viktor nods and looks greedily at the cup of tea I haven't poured yet. "Right, how do you take yours, Viktor, black? Sugar? Milk?"

"Black, please," he almost whines, "Please take me to this Madame of yours for an antidote." I laugh at this, which I immediately realize is rude.

"And you, Etienne," I shift my gaze to Jarvi, whose eyes are already locked onto mine.

"Black as well, thank you," he smiles once more, making me thankful that I am sitting down. I'm no stranger to handsome men, being rather attractive myself, but this fellow has me feeling positively woozy. Suddenly gazing into eyes and squeezing biceps seems like a reasonable way to pass my time. "Tell us about yourself, if you don't mind, Hillary." Looking forward to hearing him say my name for the rest of the year, I smile outwardly and hand him his cup of tea.

"I'm rather uninteresting, unfortunately," I sigh, feigning shame and pouring myself a cup of tea, "nothing much to tell. I am of average intelligence, looks, and social status. I actually just signed up for this Ambassador program as a means to meet someone who may be capable of transforming my boring life." Even Krum laughs at this, although it seems to cause him pain. I drop two sugars and pour some milk into my tea and take a sip, smiling. "I enjoy long walks on the grounds, practicing my Wronksi Feint on the pitch in the dead of night, and breaking rules. How about you gentlemen?"

"I can help you weeth the Feint," Krum smiles crookedly and finally takes off his fur hat, revealing a close-cropped military style cut. I laugh and blush slightly, relieved that he has a sense of humor under his serious façade.

"I can help you with the breaking rules," Etienne whispers with a hint of malice, "just let me know which ones you'd like to break, and when."

"Well it seems this has worked out perfectly, then," I smile and finish my cup of tea, realizing that I drank it rather quickly.

"I haff question," Krum says suddenly, catching me a bit off-guard, "is that Diggory boyfriend to you?" Etienne's eyebrow arches in interest, and suddenly both of them are hanging on my every breath.

"No," I laugh, feeling myself blush more furiously, "ex-boyfriend, actually. We dated for a few months last year, but I didn't exactly agree with his claim that we were soulmates." I smile nervously. "Water under the bridge, so to speak."

"Is there anyone here that's your boyfriend then?" Etienne looks positively deadly right now, placing his tea cup down in anticipation. "Since we're already asking rude questions." Viktor shrugs, indifferent to his jab.

"Not presently, no," I almost squeak out, feeling like a piece of meat, "though you'll still have to fight Diggory for a chance." I attempt to make a joke, but there's no laughter in their eyes as they digest what I've said. "What do you say I take you both on a tour of the castle now? Before it gets too late, otherwise Filch will be on us."

"What is Filch?" Viktor muses, putting his fur cap back on in preparation for our tour.

"Filch is the only person in this school that gives a damn about rules and curfews," I seethe, "and his office also holds captive some of the best magical artifacts in existence."

"Let's go there," Etienne smiles, "we can start breaking rules tonight." Feeling hot all over, I stand and pull my cloak over my body in a rather protective manner.

"Not tonight," I smile, "first, Krum to Pomfrey. Then I'll take you both through our schedule, so you can see where our classes are. If we have time, I'll show you some of my favorite secret places in the castle."

"I am glad we are haffing this one," Krum says frankly, "I haff worry about being with annoying person." Both boys rise up opposite of me and Jarvi nods in agreement.

"I apologize on both of our behalf about our prying," he says suddenly, realizing he'd been rude, "it's just a rather new idea to go to school with women. A rather exciting aspect of the school year." Feeling much less creeped out now, I laugh, realizing how miserable I would be at an all-girls school.

"Understandable. I honestly can't imagine going to school with all girls. It's nice to have some new faces in the building, anyway. Maybe you two can introduce me to some single Durmstrang guys." I smirk back at them as we make our way out of the Great Hall, and I hear Krum guffaw at my comment. I can see Angelina is still sitting at the table with her ostrich-like partner, making what appears to be painful conversation. "I also feel pretty lucky with my partners today." _A cool kid_… I laugh again in my head and imagine what Angelina will say when we get into the dormitory tonight.

Most of the tour is uneventful, although Madame Pomfrey's hot toddy knocks the wind out of Viktor for a moment, but leaves him feeling better nonetheless. I show the boys the dungeons, the entrances to all of the house common rooms (knowledge possessed due to more ex-boyfriends), all of our class locations, and the Prefects lounge and bathroom, which Angelina has already told me the passwords for. I show the boys the Room of Requirement and the secret passage to Hogsmeade, and finally I show them back to the Great Hall to say goodnight. The halls are quiet, and the conversation comes easily between the three of us, though I can't help but sense that Krum and Jarvi are almost as new to each other as they are to me. Although they've gone to school together for the past seven years (Durmstrang students study for eight years), they seem complete strangers. Rather than simply leave for their ship however, the boys invite me aboard for a tour before I head off to bed. The ship reminds me of a tent: although it seems rather small from the outside in proportion to the amount of men aboard, it is enormous inside, with a cabin for each individual boy and several classrooms. Krum's room is messy, strewn about with Bulgaria Quidditch paraphernalia and robes and seeming rather more like a nest than a room. Etienne's room is immaculate (of course), and handsomely furnished. I learn that students at Durmstrang never bunk together, and that students are responsible for bringing their own furnishings outside of beds. Viktor retires to bed, admitting that he is exhausted from the journey here, but Etienne insists on walking me back to the castle.

"I was planning on taking a little walk before heading back to my dormitory, that's all," I argue weakly, unable to really refuse spending time alone with the man. Etienne and Viktor are both eighteen, so I decide I can think of them as men, rather than boys.

"So you really do enjoy long walks then," he smiles wickedly at me and offers his hand as he hops off the gangplank onto the shore. "Would you oblige me your company then?"

"It's late, and I'm incapable of arguing, so I give you permission to escort me as I take a turn about the lake." Etienne offers his arm out for me, causing me to giggle, but I take it nonetheless.

"Is this how the men woo women in Russia, then?" I allow myself to feel his arm through his thick coat and look up at him, realizing how tall he is and suddenly feeling very small. "But you're not from Russia, are you? Neither is Viktor."

"You're correct in guessing that Russia is where Durmstrang is located, and also correct in guessing that neither Viktor nor myself are from Russia. Viktor is from Latvia, and I am from France. My mother is American, however, so I have always spoken English at home."

"So you speak three languages, then? Impressive!" Somehow, I'm not truly surprised.

"Hardly impressive, as my French is disgusting and my Russian sounds like Viktor's English." I laugh, though I'm almost positive he's lying. "But to answer your initial question, I'm not sure if this is how men woo women in Russia, or France for that matter. But it is how men woo women in movies, so I'm giving it a shot."

"It's a very impressive recreation of a classic Hollywood gentleman. I approve. I'll try and faint at some point so that you can really put your fantasy to the test." He laughs and pulls me a bit closer, making me feel almost lightheaded.

"I'm ready, just in case you're serious. Before that, though," he slows our stroll down slightly and steers me closer to the water's edge, "tell me more about yourself. Your sense of humor makes you hard to read."

"Well," I release his arm and crouch down beside the water, brushing the surface with my fingertips, "first you'll have to stand back." Etienne looks confused, but obliges, looking curious all the same. "In truth, I prefer to spend most of my time outdoors. I love living creatures, magical and non, and I prefer to keep the company of a select few rather than attempt to juggle dozens of friendships." I pause, submersing my hand under the black water and gazing up at the night sky. "I'm going to introduce you to someone you should know, given your current housing situation." Etienne looks very interested now, and inches forward slightly, about to open his mouth. Before anything can come out however, small waves begin to lap ashore, silencing him. From the black depths of the lake, a massive, onyx tentacle cuts through the glass silently. Easily the size of a tree trunk, the tip of the tentacle is about the size of my outstretched hand, and I take it warmly. "The giant squid and I met my first year at Hogwarts," I explain calmly as more of the creature continues to emerge from the depths. "I was flying around campus as night, as it is forbidden for first years to fly at all, and I slipped off of my broomstick trying to do some sort of turn or another. Fell straight into the middle of the lake, lost my wand and everything. Not my best moment." Etienne laughs and looks on in wonder as the squid, easily the size of the Durmstrang ship, emerges bit by bit from the lake. The intelligent, luminescent gold eyes emerge at last and Hillary smiles. "I wouldn't have drowned, but I would have had a hard time explaining how I lost all of my things that night if it weren't for Theon here."

"Theon?" Etienne finally speaks, sounding incredulous, but stepping forward to get a better look nonetheless.

"Of course, every creature has a name. Theon took pity on me and carried me out of the lake. He even went back and found my wand for me, which was a real life saver. We've been friends ever since." Suddenly, the tentacle leaves my hand and wraps around my waist, hoisting me into the air above the Black Lake. Theon lowers me toward his massive head, and I pat him lightly between his two enormous eyes (each one of them is at least as long as I am tall). "Hello, my friend. Have a good summer, did you? This is Etienne, he's visiting from a foreign school." Flipped upside down, I turn and pull my hair out of my face to look at Etienne, who waves from the shore in a cordial way. Theon extends a tentacle, which Etienne gladly shakes, and then places me back on the shore. "Good night, my friend. I'll see you soon."

"Nice meeting you," Etienne politely waves as Theon retreats into the lake silently, his face unreadable.

"Well, have I freaked you out?" I slide my arm through his once more, continuing our walk as if nothing remarkable had happened.

"Not at all," he grins, but stops there.

"I have, haven't I? Now you're quiet. I knew I shouldn't have been so dramatic," I laugh nervously, feeling stupid. I've never showed Theon to anyone before, knowing no one would appreciate him or would panic at the sight of the notorious Giant Squid of the Black Lake. Etienne stops walking and turns to face me.

"You haven't freaked me out at all," his voice is quiet, "if I am to be candid, I don't know what to say next because I'm suddenly rather nervous. And now about the squid, so we're clear. The squid I rather like." I have to stop myself from laughing at this: the idea that anyone that looks like Etienne could be nervous about anything involving the opposite sex. Everything this man has done so far has been attractive. Looking up at him right now in the moonlight, I'm feeling overwhelmed by everything he is. Hollywood or not, this guy is unlike anyone I've ever met in real life.

"I don't think you have anything to be nervous about, Etienne," I manage, though I have to look away from him in order to get it out. Feeling suddenly as if everything is happening rather fast on my last first day of school, I make the decision to turn back toward the school. "I think it's about time I go back up to my dormitory, though." Etienne seems to snap out of any nervousness he had been feeling and takes my arm once more and we head back up toward the castle. The rest of the walk is uneventful, and Etienne politely kisses my hand when it is time to say goodnight. Feeling drained, I quietly make my way up to the common room, careful to avoid Filch or Mrs. Norris, and sink happily into one of the overstuffed armchairs next to the fire.

Rather quickly, I feel myself drifting into a heavy sleep. The familiarity of the common room, the long last first day, and the heat from the fire make for a rather wonderful sleeping draught.

In the haze of sleep, I find myself dreaming quite suddenly. I'm looking into a mirror, facing myself and taking in my reflection, though I realize rather quickly that I'm not me; I'm Etienne. It's as if I'm inside his head, looking out through his eyes. He begins to undress; loosening his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, sliding out of his rather expensive looking shoes. I feel perverse, invasive, but am still unable to look away. Etienne pulls off his shirt to reveal a built physique, like an athlete's, although he mentioned nothing about sports. He begins to unbutton his pants, but takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror. At first, I feel embarrassed for his vanity, until I notice the sadness in his eyes. He runs his hands through his hair and takes off his pants. My heart is racing, my mind swimming with guilt and uncontrollable interest in his sculpted physique and his sad, blue eyes. I try to close my eyes to what I am seeing, but can't block out his point of view as he turns away from the mirror and opens his wardrobe. He puts on a pair of black pajama bottoms, hangs up the clothes he's just taken off, and places his shoes at the foot of his bed. I continue to peer through his point of view as he brushes his teeth, washes his face, and looks sadly in the mirror at himself once more. Finally, he crawls into bed and shuts his eyes, and I am free from Etienne's point of view.

I awake with a start, feeling my heart racing from the dream I've just had. I feel dirty, having dreamt such a strange and intimate dream about a man I've just met, and also saddened by the look in Etienne's eyes. Quickly reminding myself that it was just a dream, I rise out of the armchair and head up to the dormitory. Everyone is sound asleep, as it is quite late as I climb into bed, and I am thankful that I don't have to speak to anyone else tonight.


	2. Chapter 2: Etienne

Feeling the warmth of sunlight on my face, I awake late in the morning feeling sluggish. The dormitory is empty, and I stumble about in my underwear and an old t-shirt, looking for something to change into after a shower. Once the water hits me, I remember the strange dream I'd had the night before, and laugh to myself. Putting a little more fervor into my scrubbing than usual, I make a mental note to get a grip on my hormones today.

"Or at least do something about them," I resolve as I gaze at myself in the mirror. I feel as if someone might be looking through my eyes, and suddenly feel the need to cover myself and protect my dignity. I wrap my towel tightly around my body before the steam clears out of the shower and dress away from the long mirror that runs from floor to ceiling on the opposite wall. Feeling silly but exposed nonetheless, I grab my cloak and hurry that the house elves will give me something to nibble on, as I've missed breakfast entirely.

The common room is empty as well, which seems odd to me. Usually in the beginning of the year, the common room is flooded with people, catching up from the summer or simply enjoying being back in each other's company. I run my fingers through my hair and then wave my wand over it, drying it completely. As I walk down toward the kitchens, I half-heartedly weave my hair into a side braid and pull out my glasses. I love my glasses: they're thick-framed, tortoiseshell wayfarers, and they're also proof that boys pay zero attention to a girls face. I think they're stylish and cool, but I also bought them as a way to distract boys from gawking at me in regular conversation. Unfortunately, they have brought me little or no relief from awkward stares, but they are easier than contacts and they provide me some semblance of protection from the outside world. After my awkward morning in the shower, it feels good to hide behind the frames and my favorite jumper. The halls are relatively empty as well, though warm as ever and still shiny with the freshness of a new school year. Through the windows, I can see that it's a marvelous day, and I idly think about visiting the Forbidden Forest for a walk. Presently, all I can focus on is food, so I pick up my pace and head to the portrait that covers the passageway to the kitchens.

"I'm not sure about the password, but I've missed breakfast and I would surely appreciate a biscuit to tide me over to lunch, if it weren't a bother." The large portrait, bearing a five-foot-tall fruit basket, swings open, and out comes a very clean looking house elf, bearing a tray with some biscuits, butter, and jam.

"Here you are, madam witch," she peeps out in a queer, high-pitched voice.

"Thank you so much, miss," I coo as I take the tray, marveling at the world of magic and the veritable 24-hour buffet that takes place behind the fruit portrait. "Do enjoy your day, and please pass my thanks along to the other house elves."

"You are quite welcome," she squeaks before disappearing behind the portrait once more. The biscuits and jam are still warm, and my mouth is salivating. Deciding I can wait to get outside in order to eat, I quickly butter and jam the biscuits and wrap them in the cloth napkin lining the tray.

"Breakfast on the go today, Clayton?" I turn around to see Cormac McLaggen strutting down the hall behind me, looking satisfied as ever in catching me doing something he would consider embarrassing. Cormac asked me on a date last year, which I refused, based on the fact that he was younger than I am. He's a fifth year, and a full two years younger, though he looks quite like a man. Truth be told, he's one of the more attractive people in this school, but hardly tolerable due to his fullness of self.

"Good morning, Cormac," I smile as I turn toward him, "taking a morning stroll, are we?" Biscuits in hand, I walk toward him (and the Great Hall), hoping he'll leave me to my peace and head in the opposite direction, toward the common room.

"Are we?" He turns to walk with me, to my great disappointment. "The summer has treated you well, Hillary, you're positively glowing." I roll my eyes at him, which he interprets as a go-ahead. "I head you've been partnered with Krum and Jarvi for the Ambassador Program. Is that true?" My interest piques at the mention of Etienne – why would Cormac care about him?

"And if I have? What are you getting at here McLaggen?" He sighs heavily and takes a turn rolling his eyes as we stride toward the hall.

"Just getting a handle on the competition, that's all," he smiles through his perfect teeth, "I am, after all, another year older this year." Now it's my turn to sigh as we enter the Great Hall.

"And so am I, Cormac. You remain two years younger than I am. I'll make a deal with you," I almost feel guilty, seeing his face perk up at the hope of an offer, "when I'm twenty-five, and you're twenty-three, if we're both still single, I'll date you. Until then, the age difference will be weird for me. I'm sure you can find a suitable female in the fifth year or below." Looking dejected, he stops walking, and heads back toward the common room. The Great Hall is also empty, and at this point I'm wondering where everyone in the school has gone.

As I walk outside, I see where everyone has gone. The spectacle of the foreigners has proven to be far more tempting than rekindled friendships, and everyone from Hogwarts is either mingling with the Bauxbatons girls, who are rehearsing some sort of dance on the hillside, or ogling over the Durmstrang boys, who are enjoying some mid-morning calisthenics. I can't see Krum or Jarvi among their ranks, so I begin to head the opposite direction, toward the Quidditch pitch. Once I round the corner however, my heart sinks as I see that the remaining missing students have filled the stands around the pitch to watch Viktor (I recognize him by his flawless form) practicing with a few fellow Durmstrang students. Feeling dejected and unable to find a quiet place, I return to the front steps of the Great Hall and settle into my breakfast.

"Why weren't you at breakfast this morning?" The judgmental tone and sharpness of voice could only be Hermione, so I don't even bother to look up. "You've barely spoken three words to me since we arrived yesterday!"

"'Mione," I breathe though a delicious mouthful of biscuit, quickly chewing so as to speak, "you seemed to be in a terrible mood last night, and then the Ambassador thing Angelina signed me up for. I slept in late this morning and missed breakfast, cut me some slack. Sit." Seeming satisfied with my response, she takes a seat daintily next to me, attempting to calm her bushy curls as she does so.

"I thought you might be mad at me," she says rather softly, "everyone is in such a sour mood already, and school hasn't even started yet."

"You mean Harry or Ron are in a sour mood already? Or is it both of them?" It's always something with those two, and it's exhausting listening to Hermione complain about their trials and tribulations.

"Both of them. That's why I was looking for you. And you didn't tell me you were participating in the Ambassador Program that's a much esteemed position!" Hermione gives me a matter-of-fact look to indicate that she's read about it somewhere.

"Angelina signed me up for it, it wasn't my idea. I'm not opposed to it though, I've got Krum and another bloke as my partners, and I'm rather pleased." Hermione rolls her eyes, clearly not impressed.

"If figures," she hisses, "it really does."

"What?" I say through a mouthful of now-cold biscuit. "What figures?"

"You would get Krum! Ron and Harry wouldn't shut up about him last night and now they're going to pester me about him even more."

"Honestly he's rather ordinary, not to disappoint," I begin, before hearing footsteps coming up behind us.

"Rather ordinary? I certainly hope you're not talking about me," Etienne's eyes gleam as he smiles down at us. He's looking positively edible in a pair of well-fitting jeans and a black jumper. My dream comes back to mind as I notice his eyes are devoid of all sadness. He directs his attention toward Hermione, silently reminding me to introduce her.

"Etienne, this is Hermione Granger, one of my good friends here at Hogwarts," he extends and large hand to Hermione, who abruptly and awkwardly stands to take it, "and Hermione, this is Etienne Jarvi, one of my new acquaintances from Durmstrang." Hermione looks positively terrified by the man standing in front of her, and mumbles something about the library before skittering away.

"I'm sorry I scared your friend off," Etienne smiles as he takes a seat next to me on the steps. "I missed you at breakfast this morning," he pauses, causing me to look up at his ridiculous face, "I thought you were avoiding me." I laugh at this and use the now-empty napkin to wipe any remains of biscuit off my face.

"Hardly, darling," I say as I lay back on the steps, taking in the sunlight, "I simply slept in. Late night, you know?" Etienne leans back on an elbow to look at me, and I realize how easy it would be for him to kiss me right now. Shaking my hormones out of my head for the second time in almost as many hours, I gaze up at him. "I trust you've found something to divert your attention whilst you wait for me?"

"I'm not sure anything could divert me wholly from you, but I did pass the time by walking the grounds." I feel myself blushing, and suddenly feel rather stupid and girlish.

"Gods, you're ridiculous," I laugh, covering my face, "I can't do it." I crack my fingers to look over toward Etienne, who is looking almost wounded. "I can't take the flattery, I can't. Can't you just be a regular schoolboy and make thinly veiled references about sex? That's the game I'm used to." Etienne doesn't skip a beat, and leans in even closer to me, making me feel very exposed all of the sudden.

"You see, that's the point, I'm not trying to be like all of your other boyfriends. You're," he pauses, gazing down at my flushed face, "you're different from my other girlfriends."

"Are we dating now? I missed something," humor is my only shield in situations like this; I'm not good at being vulnerable.

"Not quite, though I feel it's inevitable." I actually laugh at him and sit up, sending a wave of worry over his face. "I don't mean it in an arrogant way, it's just," he struggles for a moment, "do you honestly not feel anything?" I turn to face him, trying to come up with my next jab, when I notice his eyes. The sadness that I remember from my dream flashes across them for a second, and suddenly the humor leaves me.

"I do." My voice sounds breathless, strangely feminine, even to my own ears. "It's just,"

"Fast," he finishes my thought for me, "too fast. But you feel it too? When we first took our seats in the Great Hall, I saw you smiling and laughing during dinner, and I felt overwhelmed by you. And when I was assigned to you as my Ambassador, I had a moment where I honestly thought it was fate."

"I don't want to ruin the moment, because I really do think you're incredibly handsome and funny and smooth, but do you hear yourself? Etienne, come on. We're attracted to each other. We're also young adults, it's not a strange concept to be attracted to someone at this age." The harshness in my voice is back, but somehow Etienne smiles.

"Alright, we'll leave it at that for now, Clayton. I'll take it." He stands up, extending his hand to me, which I take, despite feeling slightly confused. "So if we're attracted to each other, let's just get sex out of the way, that way we can move on to the things I'm really interested in."

"Excuse me?" I try to pull my hand away from his, feeling overwhelmed, "that's rather forward, don't you think? Here I was thinking you were a gentleman." Etienne tightens his grip on my hand and pulls me forward, forcing me to balance myself on his chest.

"You don't want a gentleman, Hillary," he says quietly, looking down at me, "that's what you're telling me. Now, we've got nothing else to do, and you're convinced that I'm only interested in you for sex, and I'd like to prove you wrong. But in order to do that, we've got to just get it out of the way." I laugh at his ridiculousness, feeling rather warm despite myself.

"It's just," how do I summarize my feelings of being overwhelmed also sort of desperate to sleep with someone, "that's not what I meant." Part of me, a big part of me, wants to wrap my arms around him and take him up on the offer, but a nagging voice in the back of my head is also telling me that it's probably not the best move for me at this juncture. Before I can say anything else, Etienne leans forward and kisses me. The kiss is chaste, but it's enough to push me over the edge.

"I know what you meant," he barely whispers, still just an inch from my lips, "but this is easier." There's a huskiness to his voice that's insatiable, and I realize that his offer is serious. If I had any willpower to fight him off, it left with the kiss. "Where can we go?" Without thinking, I drop his hands and turn back into the castle, frantically trying to think of a place where we can have some privacy. In the past, I'd just sneak into common rooms, dormitories, or empty classrooms (very classy when I think about it now), but that wouldn't work with Etienne. Deciding on the Room of Requirement, I start to formulate the thought that will produce the perfect room. _I need a bed. _No, too vague. _I need a place to have sex. _Afraid of the castle's judgment, I decide against that one. _I need a place to be with Etienne alone. _That could mean anything. As we round the corner though, I see that the wall has already turned into a door. This could mean two things: someone is already inside, or the room already knows what is required of it. I tentatively approach with Etienne close behind. He's been quietly following along, trying to look inconspicuously around the castle as we walk. I've been practically jogging, as I'm afraid I'll lose my nerve. Truthfully, I haven't had sex in over a year, and I've never had sex with a perfect stranger. As we walk through the door, I see the room is empty, and has essentially transformed into an apartment. There's a large, four poster bed, a full bathroom, and a fireplace with a loveseat. I turn to Etienne, looking incredulous.

"What were you thinking as we were walking here?" He presses his lips together and smiles cheekishly before locking the door behind him. I'd shown him the Room of Requirement the night before, so he was vaguely familiar with how it worked.

"Just that I wanted a comfortable place for us to spend time together." Feeling this isn't the whole truth, I raise an eyebrow at him, but quickly break into a smile. My blood is pounding in my ears; I'm nervous and exhilarated all at once.

"Well, you wanted a place, now you've got one," I manage, trying my best to keep my cool. I'm feeling very out of my league at the present, imagining that Etienne has been with countless women and is quite used to the game of seduction.

"Indeed, we do," he takes a step towards me and kisses me once more, this time with more force. I feel breathless, and almost dizzy, so I pull myself closer to his body to keep myself anchored. His mouth tastes like tea with mint and honey, and his lips are soft and full. He's too tall for me to be able to really kiss him back, so I break the kiss and take a step back, toward the bed. He unzips his jumper to reveal a plain white t-shirt and kicks off his sneakers. I mirror his movements, trying to expedite the process of us being naked. I'm reminded of my dream, and I wonder idly if underneath his shirt he's anything like I imagined. "Don't take any more of your clothes off," he smiles at me, "that's my favorite part."

"Your favorite? Out of the whole ordeal?" He laughs and closes the distance between us with a kiss, this time running his hands over my body as he deepens the kiss even further. I manage to turn him and sit him on the edge of the bed, and I'm feeling rather drunk with lust and power as I straddle him on the edge.

"Maybe not my favorite," he says quietly, looking up at me with his stormy blue eyes, "but it's one of my favorites." He takes the hem of my shirt and in one easy movement, peels it up, over my head and arms. No one has ever actually pulled off this move before, and I'm impressed. I'm thankful that it's the beginning of the school year and all my clothes are clean, which means I'm wearing a nice bra and underwear. Etienne seems to appreciate it too, as he takes in the sight of my shirtless body. "Definitely one of my favorite parts."

"Time to reciprocate, my new friend," I say, tilting his head up to meet my eyes once more. He smiles back at me and takes my hands, placing them on his hips. I take the edge of his shirt, as he did mine, and boldly attempt the maneuver. Thankfully, Etienne is much smoother than I am, and tilts his head slightly so the shirt comes off easily. Taking in his sculpted body, I smile down at him, "I can see why this is one of your favorite parts." I suddenly realize that this is exactly what Etienne looked like in my dream, and feel a shiver run down my spine.

"Play time's over, my pearl," Etienne's voice is velvet, and his eyes are locked with mine. He flips me over onto the bed and lowers himself over top of me. The rest is a blur; I've never experienced anything like Etienne. The sex is passionate, and somehow, intimate. It feels like something we've been leading up to our entire lives. I feel relieved; the sex offers some kind of release and though I hate to admit it, Etienne was right – I feel like I can see him more clearly after the sexual elephant in the room has been cleared up. I feel exhausted and somehow rejuvenated. On a side note, this is actually the only time I've ever had sex with all of my clothes off, which is a strange thing to say, but a stranger thing to experience. In the past, I've always had some article of clothing left on, as sex has always been an awkward, rushed experience. When I think about it now, I don't see any reason why I didn't simply come to the Room of Requirement, other than the fact that sex has never been anything meaningful for me. Although I know Etienne the least of all my short list of partners, the sex was by far the most intimate.

"I hate to admit it, but I think you were right," I muse aloud as we lay in what I believe I have heard called post-coital bliss. "My head feels much clearer now."

"My head feels empty right now," Etienne laughs, "but tell me what you feel more clearly about now."

"Empty," I laugh, "sorry that I've caused you to lose the contents of your brain." I try to move away from him, feigning hurt, but he quickly wraps his arms around my shoulders and holds me close to him.

"In the best way possible," his hands are on my body again, and it's hard to formulate a thought. "Now you honestly can't tell me that what just happened wasn't right."

"I'm not sure if it was the right thing to do," I arch my back, pushing my breasts into his side so that I can selfishly feel him ache for me again, causing him to quietly moan, "but it felt right."

"It feels right, it is right," he moans as a slide my leg over his, feeling him stiffen again. "I know you agree because you already want more." He smiles and kisses me, and for a moment I feel truly euphoric. "We're revolutionizing relationships. We just skipped forward about twenty paces, ignored all the awkward steps leading up to sex, and addressed our deep and irreconcilable attraction toward one another. We now have freedoms and a level of comfort with one another that no other couples have."

"Couples, couples," I breathe onto his lips, "you keep mentioning this dating idea. I've known you for less than a full day, it would be scandalous if I were to date you so soon."

"More scandalous than having daytime sex with me?" He nips at my bottom lip, causing me to squeal in a way I've never heard myself before. "Doubtful."

"At this point, it could still just be a one day stand. I really needed to remember what sex felt like, and you may have already served your purpose." Etienne tsk's me and runs his hand up my side, cupping my breast.

"No, you've never had sex like that before," he grins as he rubs his thumb over my nipple, making it stiffen as I stifle a moan. "I know because I've never had sex like that before. So you weren't remembering anything. We both experienced something new today." I'm pleased with myself, hearing Etienne speak about having sex with me in such a way.

"Tell me more about this freedom that you speak of," I'm trying desperately not to succumb to his wandering hands, though I'm fairly certain round two is on its way. "Perhaps I might be interested in pursuing this couple idea if I knew about the freedoms I'll be experiencing." I shift my body so that I am halfway on top of him, and I can feel his muscles tighten under my touch.

"Well," he groans, arching involuntarily up to me, "first, there's the fact that we've seen each other naked." He pauses, waiting for me to react, but I'm unimpressed by this one. "Can I tell you something?" As awfully cheesy as it sounds, I feel butterflies in my stomach. "I've never actually seen a woman completely naked until just now. It's rather enlightening." I push back, alarming him.

"You're lying." His face was almost scared, and I felt myself blushing at my own overreaction. "It's just that I also have never actually had sex completely naked. And I was wondering if that was an odd thing, but apparently it's not."

"Alright, so now when we're sitting in class, bored, or annoyed with one another," he exhales deeply, "or jealous of the other person, we can just imagine them naked." So he's the jealous type.

"We skipped the awkward sex and went directly to angry make-up sex."

"Essentially, yes," he smiles, careful not to move under my touch. "Also, there's never any pressure. From this point, it's not building up to anything, so there's no 'moving too fast' or 'I'm not ready yet,' so we can just have sex when we want to and not have sex when we don't want to. No pressure."

"Doesn't sound entirely awful." I enjoy the silence of the room for a moment before continuing, and am pleased when Etienne doesn't try and fill the silence with words. One of the marks of someone that I am compatible with, friend or more, is an appreciation for silence. As an introvert, words drain me, and there are days that pass by when I don't say more than a dozen words in total. Etienne merely remains still, fingers fumbling with the end of my braid. "I don't really know about the picturing each other naked during class bit, though," I add finally, "I take my studies rather seriously. I love to learn."

"Well you don't have to do it," Etienne breathes, tugging on my braid a bit, "but it's a freedom I now have. I promise I won't interfere with your studies," he laughs now, "though I find it rather difficult to believe you take anything seriously."

"It's true, I take very little seriously besides my studies." Etienne smiles and pulls me up for another kiss. It seems round two is about to begin, and feeling rather satisfied with conversation, I can't find any reason to fight it.


	3. Chapter 3: Jealousy

Etienne and I miss lunch, and when we emerge from the Room of Requirement, the high afternoon sun is already in the sky. Etienne grudgingly allows me to leave, after I ensure him that I will sever all ties if I find him to be clingy at all, and we part ways having established several rules. For one, our relationship will remain a friendship to the public eye. People may speculate all they want, but I feel it's best for my safety (Angelina possesses a rather wicked temper) and the Ambassador program if we keep things casual. Secondly, Etienne will make friends. I'm serious about the clingy thing, and I'm terrified of how entrancing Etienne is, so I make him promise that he will still make an effort to "forge lasting magical friendships" while he's visiting Hogwarts. Thirdly, and perhaps most excitingly, once a week Etienne has agreed to teach me something he's learned at Durmstrang that he thinks I would enjoy. After round two, he asked me about the types of studies we have at Hogwarts, and we compared the studies they undergo at Durmstrang. While some classes overlap, Durmstrang hosts several classes that I have never even heard of, and I'm thankful I didn't need to beg Etienne to share his knowledge with me. Although I doubt I have anything to teach him, I've offered to reciprocate should the occasion ever arise.

Although my stomach is growling, I decide to head back up to the dormitory to shower and send a letter off to Oliver. If I delay my response much more, he's likely to think I'm dead.

The hallways are full of people now, and all around me are excited and smiling faces. I run into Fred and George, who question my whereabouts for the past twelve or so hours, and I simply repeat their question back at them to throw them off. I pass by the library on the way to the dormitory and see that Hermione has already set up shop at her favorite table. Just past Hermione however, there's a rather familiar back stooped over a small table, facing the wall. I enter quietly, attempting to avert Hermione's gaze, but fail. I wave at her briefly and then walk right past her, much to her dismay.

"Viktor?" I whisper, afraid of drawing the vulture-like librarian out of whatever dark crevice she's currently inhabiting. "Viktor, is that you?"

"Shhh!" The sound doesn't come from Madame Pince, however, it comes from Viktor, who barely looks up to acknowledge me. "I don't vant to haff anyone know I am here." I stifle a laugh and squeeze into the chair next to him, not daring to speak above a whisper.

"You can't seriously be studying? I didn't take you for the bookish type."

"Novone does, this is the point," Viktor seems irritated, and I imagine for a moment that it must be very difficult to have women and men alike fawning over you all of the time.

"Well I will leave you to your peace, then. Shall I see you at dinner?" He smiles, relieved, and nods. I rise silently and head back out of the library, ruffling Hermione's hair as I pass. I hear her hiss, but don't turn back around to look at her before heading up the staircase toward the dormitory. When I reach the common room, I'm surprised to find that it's full and rather loud. It seems that everyone is discussing who will enter the Triwizard Tournament, and with gusto. Those who are too young to enter look angry, some relieved, while those who are old enough stand around with puffed up chests and set faces.

"I'm absolutely entering," Fred declares, "an age line won't stop me."

"Quite right you are, Fred," George follows close after, as usual, "we'll outsmart that line."

"How will you do it?" A tiny second year peeps from behind an overstuffed chair, "Dumbledore himself drew the line!"

"Leave that to the masters, Creevy," Fred and George say in unison.

"Ah, Hillary," George pulls me into the center of the crowd, "now tell me, will the brightest and most ferocious witch of the seventh year be entering the Triwizard Tournament?" Everyone's interest in the room is piqued, and I can't help but laugh.

"You two must be mad! Risk life and limb for a crystal cup?" Fred and George both fall back in feigned shock. "Besides, I don't turn seventeen for another month as it were."

"She's got a point, people," Fred moans from one of the couches, "what would we do if the most beautiful creature to ever roam the halls of Hogwarts were maimed, attempting to bring our school honor and glory beyond measure?" A collective sigh comes from the boys of the room, and I feel myself beginning to blush.

"She's just afraid, that's all," Cormac's voice appears near the stairwell, "There's no real reason at all she shouldn't enter. The cup is open until October 5th, two days after your seventeenth birthday."

"Rather odd that you know my birthday, Cormac," I smile at him, shaking my head, "but perhaps I shall enter, if only to prove to you that I cower at nothing – surely not the threats of fifteen year old children." Cormac's face turns a deep shade of fuscia, contrasting his curly blonde locks, and he stalks up the stairs toward the boys' dormitory.

"Well done, Clayton," George claps me on the back, "McLaggen should cool out a bit for a while now. And now you're entering to defend our glory!" I smile and shake my head, pulling myself loose of George's grip.

"Perhaps, but for now, I must escape the limelight of my adoring fans," I wave dramatically, "farewell to all. I shall see you all when next we dine." I sashay out of the common room, leaving the Weasleys to their mischief and shenanigans.

Mercifully, the dormitory is empty, so I grab my towel and head back to the shower, though I feel surprisingly guilt-free about my morning with Etienne. The steam and hot water feel soothing, and I feel energized by the time I step out. It is nearly dark by the time I get dressed, and feeling as if I might die if I miss another meal, I grab a parchment and quill and decide to write to Oliver during dinner. Better to be rude than hungry, I suppose.

The Great Hall seems back to normal: the general roar of friends chatting, girls giggling, and boys being boy has returned. I am early (thank Gods), so I settle in alone, begin to snack on some of the smaller items, and quickly scribble out a letter to Oliver.

_O – _

_Sorry it's taken so long to write you back…24 hours seems an ungodly amount of time when I'm used to talking to you non-stop. I'm glad things are going well for you. As a student, there is little or nothing to divert me from missing you incessantly. As it were, Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year, and we have visitors from two other wizarding schools. As fate would have it, your man-crush Viktor Krum has been assigned to be my buddy through the new Ambassador program that has sprung up. I've also met a rather interesting young man named Etienne, who also goes to Durmstrang. I believe that these two gentlemen will help me pass the time while we are apart. Give a little kiss to the picture of us for me._

_XO,_

_Hillary_

_P.S. – No need to worry, Viktor Krum isn't half as handsome as you are, my dear. _

I fold the letter up neatly and wait for my owl, Nash, to appear. He always knows when I'll need him, so there's no need for me to go to the owlry to fetch him. Sure enough, I see him swooping in with a few other owls, delivering late packages and such.

"Hello, love," I scratch Nash's neck affectionately as he lands beside me on the table, "I've got a letter for Oliver, of course. Sorry I'm getting it off so late for you." I break off a piece of biscuit for him and let him nibble his fill before fixing the letter to his leg. "I'll see you soon." Nash nips my finger in goodbye and is off, flapping soundlessly out of the castle and toward Oliver.

"Writing love letters, are we?" Etienne's voice surprises me, and I jump a little out of my skin. "Not a very secretive place, if you're trying to hide." For a moment, I think he's going to kiss me, and I'm mortified. He restrains himself however, and takes a seat next to me. Somehow, the act of him not kissing me bothers me more, and I realize how difficult it's going to be to keep things a secret.

"I've no shame in my love letter game, you see," I smile at him as others begin to take their seats at the table. "I don't care who knows who I love!"

"So Oliver, then?" Angelina takes a seat across from me, and I smile as I set eyes on her. I notice her Durmstrang partner is sitting the next table over, with the Slytherins, and she doesn't seem disappointed.

"Who's Oliver?" Etienne looks unreasonably…worried about Angelina's comment, and I almost laugh at him.

"You look positively wounded, Etienne. No worries," I take a sip of the pumpkin juice that has just filled my goblet, "Oliver is my best friend, not the recipient of my love letter. I'm afraid you'll have to figure out who the love letters are for on your own." A crooked smile spreads across his face and he shakes his head.

"I'll begin my investigation tomorrow then," he announces, "I'll begin keeping a close eye on everyone that you interact with to determine who it is so that I may kill him in a duel." I laugh at this, but Angelina causes me to stifle my laughter immediately with one of her killing glances.

"I'm sorry, how rude of me," I clear my throat, "Angelina Johnson, this is Etienne Jarvi, student of Durmstrang. He is a Sagittarius, enjoys long walks, and is an only child." Angelina looks at me angrily, clearly not amused. "Oh! I almost forgot," I add dramatically, "his favorite color is blue. A sort of ocean blue, not like sky blue. And not the tropical ocean, either, the cold, deep kind of ocean. Very interesting, am I right?"

"I see your experience with the Ambassador program is going well, Etienne," Angelina locks her eyes to Etienne's, which are precisely the color I just described. "I'm very pleased to have made your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is all mine, miss," Etienne extends a hand, which Angelina takes. He very gently kisses the top of it and releases it seamlessly to her, leaving her quite flustered and flushed looking. "I'm so thankful to be allowed the opportunity to forge international bonds of friendship through the Ambassador program." Angelina is positively smitten, it's almost painful.

"Well," she attempts to sound nonchalant, "that is truly the purpose of the program. I'm so happy to hear you find it fruitful." She looks like she's about to say something else, but rises suddenly, seeming overwhelmed. "I've got to run back to the dormitory for something, please excuse me."

"Charmed, miss, truly," Etienne coos, never taking his eyes off of Angelina's face. She nearly stumbles backwards, but manages to make a smooth getaway.

"You're awful," I seethe once she's out of earshot, "what vile, disgusting mannerisms you have. Is that how you speak to everyone you're not interesting in sleeping with?"

"Oh yes, miss," Etienne very naturally moves slightly closer to me, so that he can secretly place his hand on my thigh, "you see, being raised in a wealthy family, it's essential to always show the very highest form of manners. Every person you meet deserves to be treated as if they were royalty."

"I'm going to vomit," I laugh, placing my hand in my lap on top of his and feeling a rush of adrenaline. Perhaps being secret lovers won't be as bad as I thought. "You're never going to make friends that way, dear."

"Dear," Etienne whispers wickedly as he leans into the table, taking a look at the foods that have started to appear before him, "we must be careful with our pet names, mustn't we? There are better ways to communicate, anyway, _dear_," his hand moves slowly between my legs, causing me to tremble slightly. I pull my hand up rather suddenly, causing him to jump, and begin serving myself food, as if nothing had happened at all. Looking slightly off-put, Etienne removes his hand and follows suit. Avoiding eye-contact with me, Etienne doesn't notice the leftover parchment on the table and the words that are appearing on them just next to his plate.

_Play nice at the dinner table, my prince._

When Etienne finally does look down, a smile spreads across his face, but he remains visibly uninterested in me as I go on eating. I keep an eye on the parchment, but nothing appears, so I add:

_What's this? A bit of simple magic you never learned at Durmstrang? Not even in your Dark Arts class?_

Etienne smiles even more broadly, pulling the parchment off of the table and pocketing it. Once it's in his pocket, I add another line, and then continue with my dinner. We eat in silence for a moment before Viktor takes a seat across from us, looking exhausted.

"Viktor, you look positively ragged," I muse out loud, "library got you down already?" He smiles at me and begins loading huge portions of food onto his plate. To his great pleasure, what he removes from the tureens quickly refills.

"It is very hard to find peace in this castle," he says through a thick mouthful of chicken, "I haff been avoiding all day." I nod in understanding. While his fame is quite superior to my own, I do commiserate with the feeling of being surrounded all the time.

"I understand what you mean," I savor a bit of potato, relishing in my first full meal of the day, "I believe things will die down a bit tomorrow once classes begin. I assure you, none of the professors will allow any swooning in class."

"I hope you are correct in this," Viktor continues to cram his mouth full of food, "this food is very delicious."

"Decidedly more enjoyable than the gruel we receive at Durmstrang," Etienne pipes in, his voice sounding wholly uninterested in the conversation. I charm the paper in his pocket to grow warm, and when he doesn't respond, I cause it to get even hotter. "Ow," he pulls the paper out of his pocket quickly, looking a bit peeved. Once he reads the third line, his spirits seem to pick up a bit. Angelina takes a seat beside me, and I'm honestly surprised that she's returned at all after her interaction with Prince Charming.

"Viktor," I attempt to be more polite the second time around, "this is my good friend Angelina Johnson. She's a brilliant Chaser for the house team." Angelina looks mortified, but Viktor smiles.

"Yes, I haff been meaning to ask about Quidditch. You say you fly, vhy not outside today vith us to practice?"

"Hillary is an incredible flyer," Angelina pipes in suddenly, surprising me, "but she's never played for the house team because of Oliver."

"Don't be ridiculous, Angelina," I fire back, sending her a scathing look, "that's not why I didn't play. I love to fly, I just never had the urge to play on the house team."

"What would Oliver have to do with her not wanting to play?" Etienne muses, leaning past me to look at Angelina. I roll my eyes, giving in to what will undoubtedly dominate the conversation now.

"Oliver is a wonderful Keeper, you see, and he's been our captain for the past three years," Angelina begins, suddenly very confident among my Durmstrang companions. "But he's also Hillary's best friend. He doesn't want her playing at all, because he's too afraid that she'll get hurt. So even though Hillary is an amazing flyer and player, she's never played a regulation game, just to make him happy."

"Well that's a ridiculous tale you've woven, really," I roll my eyes once more and glare at Angelina. "Honestly, if I wanted to play, I would have. Did it ever occur to you that my time has been filled with other things? And that perhaps I respect Quidditch as being Oliver's niche? It's his thing, I would never want to take it away from him in any way."

"How would playing on his team take it away from him? You know how insane he is about Quidditch, with you there'd be no way we'd lose." I'm beginning to sense that Angelina has been bottling up this rage for years now.

"It seems rather selfish to me," Etienne wonders aloud, "if he's truly your friend, then why shouldn't share what he loves with you? Why push you away?"

"Yes, if you haff the gift of flying vhy does he not make use of it?" Krum has been shoveling food in his mouth and paying rapt attention all this time.

"Alright, well," I huff, frustrated, "Oliver's not here to defend himself, and it seems to me that the team has been fine without me, so I think we can drop it." The real reason I never tried out, besides the fact that Oliver was terrified (however undeservedly) I would die, was that I would be taking Angelina's spot on the team. I choose not to share this, though, and stare determinedly into my food, suddenly feeling sour. Etienne seems disappointed that I'm defending Oliver, while Angelina seems somehow satisfied at ruining my perfectly good dinner. Krum looks lost in thought, and finally speaks.

"It seems to me, that since this man, Oliver, no longer is here, that you should play with us now, for fun only." He smiles, trying to ameliorate the situation, and I smile back at him, appreciating what he's doing.

"I would love to join you sometime, Viktor, thank you for the invitation." Feeling decidedly better after Viktor's closing comments, I remain silent for the rest of dinner and allow others around me to do the talking. Etienne speaks with Fred and George, Viktor speaks with Angelina and Katie Bell, and I focus on savoring every bite of my one true meal of the day. After Dumbledore's closing remarks, I am the first to rise from the table, and slip out of the Great Hall in a pack of Bauxbatons girls. Breathing in the night air brings me great comfort, but I linger on the steps for only a few minutes, having promised Etienne that I would meet him in the Room of Requirement.

"Hillary," Viktor's voice appears behind me, but when I turn to greet him, I see nothing. "Over here," he adds, seeing my confusion. I see a shadowy hand waving from behind a gargoyle and laugh to myself. As I approach him, Viktor reaches out and pulls me behind the gargoyle quickly, causing me to quite literally fall into his arms.

"Quite the secret affair, Viktor," I whisper as he carries me around the corner. I can't help but giggle: all this mystique for the sake of avoiding fans. "Tell me, will all of our fraternization take place in shadow?" Viktor places me on the ground, just around the corner from the entrance to the Great Hall.

"I just vanted to see if you vere alright, you seem upset at dinner," Viktor is leaning against the wall, trying to seem casual, but I can tell he is legitimately concerned. "I feel like is my fault."

"Don't be ridiculous, Viktor," I shake my head and smile, "Angelina has clearly been bottling up some feelings about that for a while, and she just chose to air it out tonight. I really appreciate you asking, though, I was rather upset."

"It seem to me as if this Oliver person is important to you," he is looking down at his feet, clearly not sure if he's overstepping a boundary.

"Well I wasn't lying when I said Oliver is my best friend," I smile at him, "so he is undoubtedly important to me. I grew up with him, and when my parents died, his family took me in."

"So there is no romance betveen you then?" Viktor doesn't quite seem nervous, just curious.

"No romance, no," I smile, "although rumors of our love have circulated wildly over the years. He graduated from Hogwarts last year, you see. He is rather overprotective though, Angelina wasn't entirely wrong about that." Viktor nods, seeming to understand.

"You are his family, it is only right," I smile, because Viktor is right. "I am still sad about Quidditch. I vish you had played here, but that is only my bias."

"Oliver and I grew up playing Quidditch together. The truth is, he was never overprotective until my parents were killed. Once his family took me in, he felt as if it was his job to protect me." I pause, deliberating my next words. "Truthfully, I could have played if I wanted, Oliver would have loved it. When I told him I was going out for Quidditch in my third year, he was thrilled, but he told me that I would most likely take Angelina's spot as Chaser if I tried out." Viktor smiles, revealing rather lovely, straight teeth that I haven't seen before.

"I see now, vhy you haff not played." He shakes his head, still smiling. "But of course, Angelina could never hear this. You are good friend."

"Thank you, Viktor," I smile back at him, "but I really would love to play with you sometime. You'll have to go easy on my though, I saw you fly during the World Cup."

"A friend can never go easy, as you say," Krum shakes his finger at me, looking menacing, "it is the job or your friends to make best version of you." This time, I return the toothy smile, and I am fairly certain Viktor is blushing (though it is difficult to tell in the moonlight).

"I suppose it is, Viktor. Alright then, no mercy, I look forward to it." He nods, seemingly having said what he needed to and feeling relieved. "I'm sorry to cut things short, but I've agreed to meet someone before turning in for the night, so I've got to be heading back inside."

"I understand," he nods abruptly, "I shall see you tomorrow in class, or maybe sometimes in a dark corner." I laugh once more and give him a kiss on the cheek before turning back around the corner. He waits back, either as a result of the kiss, or to keep his secrecy, and then heads down the hill toward the Black Lake a as I cross though the door into the Great Hall. Feeling wholeheartedly better, probably as a result of the fresh air and Krum's rather refreshing conversation, I bound up the stairs and round the corner toward the Room of Requirement, where the door has already formed. I feel myself smiling rather stupidly, but don't mind, though the sight of Etienne pouting on the loveseat is nearly enough to make me sick. Ignoring him, I bound onto the bed, sitting criss-cross and patting the space in front of me, motioning for Etienne to join me.

"Looking rather cross, my friend," I smile unwaveringly at Etienne's moody face, "come join me, won't you?" Etienne doesn't smile, but rises all the same and walk over to the side of the bed. He really does look cross as he sits down on the edge, looking rather fixedly at his hands. "Don't be so sour, come on now," I tug at his knee, urging him to face me. He obliges, still avoiding eye contact. At this point I have to actually laugh at him, because I realize he's not faking the pout. "Oh come out with it, Etienne. What is it?"

"Nothing," he shakes his head, still not looking up, "what took you so long to come here? Why did you go outside first?"

"I needed a bit of air after dinner, truthfully," I sigh, recalling how I felt after the conversation, "and I ran into Viktor, so we had a little chat. I do apologize."

"I'm sure," he finally looks at me, his eyes stormy, "convenient that Viktor was there to comfort you." I roll my eyes, leaning forward and placing a hand on each of his thighs.

"You can't honestly tell me you're acting this way out of jealousy?" Leaning forward a bit more, I kiss him gently, enough to get his full attention. "I've given you everything you've asked for in less than a day, agreed to be your secret lover, and somehow you're still jealous." Etienne takes my face in his hands and kisses me back, more deeply than my kiss, and then exhales deeply.

"I can't help it, truly," he shakes his head, sounding sad, "I'm consumed by it. But this," he gently pushes me back into a sitting position, "this is worse than I've ever felt before." He runs a hand through his perfect hair and shakes his head some more. "It honestly makes me feel sick to my stomach." I try not to smile at this, because it's clearly eating him up inside, but it is rather ridiculous.

"What is there to even be jealous of?" I raise my hands dramatically. "I've spent nearly every free moment since I met you _with_ you. If I were sneaking around with another man, I think that time would have overlapped with the time I've spent with you – in bed, mind you."

"Please don't be sarcastic about this, I'm trying to be honest with you," I feel a bit guilty, but I'm still bewildered. I see again in Etienne's eyes the sadness I saw in my dream. "The truth is I would do anything to have you," he pauses, searching for words, "I'm completely ensnared by you. I can think of nothing else."

"Come here, will you?" I take his hand, pulling him forward on the large four-poster so that he is laying next to me. I lean over him, taking a turn at running my fingers through his hair, and kiss him – this time like I mean it. When I break the kiss and look down at him, he still looks like he's about to cry, which confuses me. "Honestly, can you think of any explanation for my actions in the last twenty-four hours other than the fact that I am equally, perhaps slightly more, bewitched by you? Here I was thinking you were charming, and handsome, and so intelligent. Now I see you're sort of a tosser, really." Etienne finally smiles, though there are actual tears in his eyes threatening to leak out.

"It's just that with the whole secrecy bit, and then in the Great Hall when you moved your hand, and then the letter, and the speaking with Krum," he looks away, realizing how he sounds. "I know you warned me about the clingy thing, but it's torture, honestly. Every boy here beholds you as a wondrous, feminine entity. It takes everything I have to keep myself from physically holding onto you."

"My dear, I promise that I am no 'wondrous, feminine entity,' and that the need to put me on a leash is quite unnecessary. I've been taking care of myself, more or less, for some time now. What you need to know is that I've dated everyone in this school that I saw fit to date, which is three people. I slept with one of them, and that's it. Creature of mystique and intrigue or not, you're already leader of the pack, you see."

"Three people?" Etienne seems taken aback, "you've dated three people here?" I nod, pursing my lips a bit. "And you've only slept with one of them?"

"Diggory, the bloke you saw last night at the meeting. And only a few times. I have slept with one other person, though he doesn't go to this school."

"That Oliver bloke," Etienne's face darkens, and I actually laugh.

"Oh Gods no," I smile at him, pulling his hair a bit and shaking my head, "not even close. Never even kissed him, I assure you. No, the boy I lost my virginity to lived on Oliver's street though, and we used to spend loads of time with him during summer holiday, playing Quidditch and such. About two years ago, Oliver went away for a Quidditch camp, and the boy and I spent our time rather differently once Oliver was gone." I smile to myself, recalling the hot summer days, lounging under the shade of the huge trees in the wood behind Oliver's house. "Oliver was not pleased when he returned and found out what happened. That's the last time I spoke to that boy." Etienne is listening, though he looks slightly confused.

"It's just," he chooses his words slowly, deliberately, "it just really seems like this Oliver fellow is much more than a friend to you." I shoot him a warning look, to let him know that I am rather tired of this subject for the evening. "But I suppose that is a conversation for another day. I daresay you've calmed the beast within me a bit, and for that I thank you." He brings his head up to meet my lips for a kiss, pulling me down onto his chest as he does. We snog for a moment, and I can feel him relaxing.

"I'm glad to have calmed you a bit," I breathe onto his lips once we pause, "though I must ask that you try and keep your cool from now on. I really do like you," I pause, letting the words sink in for Etienne and for myself, as well, "I feel excited and anxious and sexy when I'm around you, which I've never felt before. But I really do value distance at times, and I need to be able to speak with my friends, especially Oliver, without fearing your reaction."

"You've not said anything that's unreasonable," his voice is calm, but sad, "but I'm afraid there's nothing reasonable about how I felt tonight. I will really try, though, that I can promise."

"You'll be sick of me in no time, I promise," I smile and kiss him quickly, chastely, "especially once you see how annoyingly focused I am in class." Etienne smiles and I pull myself away from him, realizing it's past the time I should be getting to bed. "You think I'm joking, but you'll see." I stand up and straighten out my robes, trying to look respectable before I return to the common room.

"I suppose I shall." He looks like he wants to say more, but hops off the bed instead gesturing toward the door. "Shall we then?" I walk toward him, knowing he wants a little more closure, and stand on tip-toe to kiss him once more.

"Dream of me, won't you?" I smile wickedly up at him as she shakes his head at me.

"I don't think I have much of a choice at this point." We part ways in the hallway, and I manage to make it up to my dormitory without much excitement. I feel oddly neutral: the frightful state that Etienne was in has been neutralized by the promising conversation I had with Viktor, who may yet prove to be a lovely new friend. I allow myself to feel the heaviness of a day's worth of activity and fall asleep without much ado, and my slumber is devoid of odd point-of-view dreams. Classes begin in the morning, and I am at peace with my world.


End file.
